Enoch tried to say something to quell the awkward mood-spoiler. “That was fun too… I guess.” He smiled. “It’s all part of the dream.”

His bulge unwittingly collapsed, and his mood as well.

“He called himself, Six-Six,” Ife said. “Does that mean anything?”

Her eyes matched his. Enoch’s forehead’s skin turned wrinkled. He was obviously taken aback by the mention of the name.

“What did you say?”

Ife repeated the name, “Six-Six.”

Enoch’s phone laid on the refrigerator. He dashed for it, and quickly sent a text to an unsaved number. When he was done, he turned to quell Ife’s worries that the name from her dream held no much meaning to him in reality.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”

But Ife could tell it wasn’t nothing: she watched his bulge die.

“Don’t you think it’s funny?” he asked in reference that the universe was desperately trying to bring them together even after she had repeatedly refuted his proposal to date for months now.

Ife chuckled. She rose from the bed and walked towards Enoch’s position. She kissed him, and he wasted no time in returning it. He held both sides of her face in his hands and ravaged its entirety with deep kisses.

“I want you. For real this time,” he said.

Ife placed her hand into his wound. It was unusual: she could feel the fresh skin in its depth, but it wasn’t bleeding. He screamed in ecstasy, and pushed her away, further unto the bed. He jumped on her.

The sounds of vanity flared… hormones pushed high… inhibitions ran low. The next fifty minutes brought with them a mixture of sin and pleasure.

Enoch collapsed, his back coupling the mattress the bed. Ife, cuddled up to his side. Both young-adults basked in the warmth of the other’s nakedness. When they were done, something that bothered him during their romp forced him to talk, even if it was going to ruin their moment.

“You never told me you were a virgin?”

“Would it have made any difference?” Ife retorted with a question of her own.

Enoch’s reply was interrupted by the sound of Ife’s buzzing mobile-phone.

“It’s my father,” she said as she looked at the caller ID. She dropped the phone.

“Aren’t you going to pick it?” Enoch asked.

“No!”

All she wanted to do was ride. She mounted him like she described from her dream. “I want you badly,” she said.

“Ife, wait.” Enoch protested. But she would have none of it. His repeated protests forced her to take a chill and hear what he had to say.

“I have a confession to make as well,” he said.

He got her attention.

“I am sorry, but I …”

Enoch’s words started to break. Ife’ss reality started to fluctuate. Everything started to go dark, until only thing left was pitch-darkness in Ife’s consciousness.

She opened her eyes to see Enoch seated on a chair before her; she looked at her body, and discovered she was well clothed.

“Where am I?” She asked. Her head dangled. It hurt he real bad.

“Same place you blacked out after crying and drinking all through last night,” Enoch answered. “You slept through the entire day.”

Ife sat upright and held her head. “So, it was all a dream!” She sighed. Feeling frustrated didn’t take away the fact that the fantasy did please her. Enoch was right; she wanted him badly. But she wouldn’t ask.

The news came on TV; the curfew was officially over. She needed to leave; to see her father; to confront him with her recent findings.

Ife turned the door knob, and walked into the living room without fear or worry. As expected, Barr. Daniels was already seated, waiting for her arrival. He almost had the first word but Ife shunned him.

“I know what you did at that Ethereal Foundation’s maiden conference,” she said.

Barr. Daniels raised his head sharply. His eyes betrayed the straight look he had on his face.

“What do you know? He asked. His stern look persisted.

“It doesn’t matter… I’ll tell it to the whole world,” she said.

Barr. Daniels perceived her words for a threat. He wasn’t one to dance to the tune of parlor tricks, even from his daughter. Yet, he apologized for this. “I’m sorry, but you won’t tell any soul whatever it is you know.”

Ife refused his pride-filled apology, she was going to announce to the world that the man that called himself her father was a murderer.

Ife pushed him backwards. “You killed my father! You killed Jonah. He was your best-friend, yet you had him murdered!”

“That’s a lie… How could I have killed my only true friend? My brother?” Barr. Daniels fought for his own defense.

A car’s headlight suddenly turned on. It shone directly into the house through the window without a curtain. Ife wondered who it was playing such prank this late. She wanted to go peep from the window but he held her back.

“Remain here,” he said as he drew her back.

He walked forward, and peeped himself, but couldn’t see anything because of the bright light. As he turned his head to Ife, he heard the sound of guns corking.

“Stay down!” He shouted, and jumped to cover Ife.

Bullets pierced an opening through every items they met.

When the dust settled, the police and ambulance were already on ground to tend to the injured Barr. Daniels, terribly riddled with bullets. Ife was lucky, he acted as a shield to save her, all she had to deal with was the trauma of the encounter, and minor bruises from debris, which were more than fair enough.